


A Time-Honored Tradition

by heeroluva



Category: Aquaman (2018)
Genre: Eggpreg, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oviposition, Size Difference, Stomach Bulge, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-12 12:05:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19228798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: The Karathen’s voice when she speaks is felt as much as heard.“Long have I waited for a new king. Long have I hungered. Each king of old has done me the honor of carrying my children. Will you uphold that same pact?”





	A Time-Honored Tradition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meilan_Firaga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/gifts).



Warmth fills Arthur the likes of which he’s never known when his fingers close around the trident, its power nearly overwhelming him before he lets himself be dragged along, surrendering to it. As his awareness spreads, it’s like coming home, and nothing feels more like his than the Karathen, her presence all-consuming as her tentacles circle around him.

The Karathen’s voice when she speaks is felt as much as heard. _“Long have I waited for a new king. Long have I hungered. Each king of old has done me the honor of carrying my children. Will you uphold that same pact?”_

The laughter that rises from Arthur’s throat is only half-hysterical. After the events of recent days, this request is somehow not as shocking as it would have been a week prior. “There is a war raging in the sea and it threatens the surface. Give me your aid, and you may do as you please with me.”

 _“As my king wills it,”_ the Karathen replies. _“After eons what is a few days wait?”_

That had been six days ago, and now here Arthur stands alone before the Karathen’s colossus form, far away from prying eyes and feeling more nervous now that the first time he’d fucked, the true magnitude of what he was about to do suddenly hitting him. He’d never felt as small as he does now, and he can’t help the shiver that has nothing to do with cold that goes through him. He squashes the small voice that tells him it’s not too late to run; he’d given his word and he will not renege on it.

One massive tentacle curls behind Arthur and urges him forward with surprising gentleness. _“You are anxious, little king. Will it calm you to know that none who have come before you were harmed? In fact they all seemed to greatly enjoy the experience. Many even came to seek my attentions after the fact.”_

Arthur can’t help but snort in disbelief, not even able to dredge up annoyance at the Karathen’s habit of calling him ‘little’. “You’re going to have to forgive my ignorance here, but I find that really hard to believe. No disrespect meant of course. I’m certain you are a great beauty amongst your own kind, but I’m at a loss as to how this is going to work.”

The Karathen’s amusement is a palpable thing, her mind wrapping around Arthur’s as softly as her tentacle. In direct contrast, her tentacle unexpectedly closes around him, the spines that cover it suddenly stiffening to snag at his clothing, shredding them until he’s naked, scraps of cloth drifting to the seabed. It happens so quickly that Arthur is stripped bare before he even realizes what’s happening. He has no shame in his body, but he’s surprised to find his cock stiffening, half hard between his thighs.

_“I have found that words complicate matters. Somethings are better left to action.”_

Before Arthur can ask what that even means he’s tugged beneath the Karathen’s massive body, and before his eyes he watches as what has to be her genital slit slowly opens and reveals hundreds—maybe even thousands—of splotchy purple-orange tentacles. They range in size from the width of his fingers to thicker than his body, and some trail out dozens of feet. Each is smooth and uniform in thickness over their entire length, and strangely translucent, literally glowing from within.

“Beautiful,” Arthur murmurs as without conscious thought, he reaches out, wondering if they’re as soft as they look. As soon as his fingers touch one—they _are_ as soft as they look and covered in a thick slime—they come to life, converging on him. Arthur moans as they slide across his skin, leaving no inch of him untouched.

_“Apologies, little king. It has been so long, and I underestimated my control.”_

A number of inquisitive tentacles poke at Arthur’s nostrils and ears before they go in search of more suitable homes. A large one presses itself against his lips, and he has no choice but to open up to the demand, the corners of his lips stinging, his jaw aching as his mouth is forced wider than it’s ever been before. With the tip of the large tentacle filling his mouth, the thick fluid that coats it begins to pool at the back of his throat, and he has no choice but to swallow the slightly bitter liquid down.

Arthur’s muscles immediately go lax, and heat fills him, his cock going from half-hard to fully hard in a handful of heartbeats, so quickly that his head swims as his breathing quickens. Well that’s convenient. Tentacles slide across his body, his nerves singing like he’s never experienced before. The brush of them against his collar bones makes him moan; the curious flick of his nipples makes his cock throb, the nubs suddenly sensitive in a way that he’s never experienced before. He shivers in a way that has nothing to do with tickling when they slide across the soles of his feet.

Dozens of tentacles curl around his cock and balls, pressing against his taint, sliding between his ass checks and pressing teasing against his asshole. The orgasm that hits Arthur is completely unexpected, so totally unlike anything he’s ever experienced before, slamming into him with the force of a semi, and when one tentacle oh so slowly presses against him, spreading him open almost painfully before it pushes into him and slides across his prostate. The orgasm seems to go on and on with every inch that wiggles into him, and Arthur isn’t sure he can survive this pleasure, his heart racing as his chest heaves, muscles convulsing.

When it finally ends, it’s as much of a relief as a disappointment, and Arthur can feel that Karathen’s amusement. His mind struggles to make sense of what’s happening to him, certain that the tentacle has managed to fit an unbelievable length inside of him as he begins to feel uncomfortably full. The tentacle in his mouth suddenly pulls away, and he’s almost saddened as he wiggles his jaw and swallows the last of the liquid.

“Fuck,” Arthur hisses as he glances down, the tentacles that continue to caress him sliding to the side to reveal the bulge of his stomach. The normal cut of his abs have been released by a bulge that shows the clear progress of the tentacle through his intestines. It should have been horrifying. And truly it is in a way, but mostly Arthur wonders what it says about him that he finds it undeniably hot.

_“This is nothing. Already my eggs are dropping, and soon I will fill you truly. You will do well as my incubator, little king.”_

Arthur still struggles to process the how of it, but before he can form enough thoughts to voice a question, another tentacle is pressed against his already stuffed hole. She can’t seriously be—Arthur grits his teeth at the sudden spike of pain, and nearly whites out with pleasure when the tentacles within and around him suddenly begin to vibrate, and another powerful orgasm hits him, a sob escaping him as his overstimulated cock jerks again and again, his balls aching from coming twice so quickly, and yet it’s the most amazing things he’s ever experienced.

When Arthur can finally think again, there’s still an ache in his guts, and he can scarcely believe the size of his stomach, the bulge making him look heavily pregnant. A sudden thought occurred to him, and his eyes go huge. “Wait, just how big are—”

Arthur breaks off with a shout as the Karathen sudden pulls the tentacles apart within him, forcing him to spread impossibly wider, the coolness of the seawater that fills the space between them a shock. A strangely bulbous, translucent tentacle suddenly drops into view, the skin nearly transparent, allowing Arthur to make out the shape of the eggs, the size of large pearls, maybe a half inch wide. The size of them is a relief, but the number of them—Arthur is certain that there are thousands, tens of thousands maybe. The size of it is also a concern, definitely thicker than the tentacles already filling him.

_“It will fit, little king.”_

Arthur barks out a laugh, “Forgive me if—” He breaks off with a yelp as the tentacles suddenly pull out of him and for a frighteningly long moment, they seem to go on forever, an endless slide against his prostate, and he’s certain he’s going to be turned inside out. When they finally pull free, he can feel himself gaping open, more seawater rushing into him, cooling his heated insides. At the same time he feels bereft, the sudden emptiness, usually the norm now feeling horrible. He doesn’t have to wait long though, a half dozen smaller tentacles slipping into him easily before the ovipositor moves closer, filling the space between his wide splayed legs as it nudges against his spread hole, pressing, pressing, pressing until his body oh so slowly begins to open wider.

Toes curling, Arthur’s hands close over the tentacle that twines around his fingers, trying to ground himself as he pants wildly. It hurts, but it’s a good hurt, a hurt that feeds the pleasure that’s rising in him again, and just as the tip of it slips inside of him, the pressure against his prostate is relentless, and Arthur is coming again, teeth grinding as he tries to clench around the bulk of it.

When the pleasure fade away, Arthur is surprised that the ovipositor doesn’t seem to have pressed much deeper into him.

_“It takes time for your body to change. When you wish to do this again, your pelvis will be suitably flexible to allow me deeper.”_

Arthur’s mind boggles at that, but he doesn’t find the image of it as disturbing as it should be. He doesn’t notice the way the Karathen says “When” and not “If”. He doesn’t notice the first of the eggs that are laid inside of him, pushed deeper and deeper by the small tentacles, intent on making sure that every inch of him is filled. However, slowly but surely his stomach grows, the fullness increasing to borderline uncomfortable but never crossing over.

Tentacles caress the growing swell of Arthur’s stomach, tracing over reddening skin, over the dark pink stretch marks that begin to appear until he looks nine month pregnant and ready to burst and still the Karathen doesn’t stop.

Time passes strangely after, and Arthur loses track of the amount of orgasms he has, the flow of water against his skin between the tentacles that caress him, nearly too much for him. He begins to worry when it begins to grow difficult to breathe, but then he suddenly finds himself flipped, held up by his arms and legs, his massive belly hanging below him as it continues to grow. The change in position lessens the pressure on his lungs and he breathes easier.

Arthur is nearly weeping when the Karathen finally pulls out of him and gently rights him, holding him as he sways. His fingers shake as he reaches out towards his unbelievably swollen belly, sticking out so far in front of him that he can’t even reach to touch it all. His hands smooth over the stretched flesh, so alien to him, unable to believe what he’s seeing and feeling.

The Karathen gives him a gentle push, and Arthur bobs almost comically as he drifts back slightly. _“Hurry home, little king. Your people are surely worried by your absence.”_

“You don’t seriously think I can return to Atlantis like this,” Arthur says in disbelief.

_“There is no shame in this. Your people will recognize this boon for what it is.”_

Yeah, no. Arthur has a hard time believing that. He looks down at himself in disbelief. “But I thought—”

_“Are pregnancies on the surface so very short?”_

“No, but—”

_“You will incubate my eggs for as long as they take to mature, little king.”_

“And how long will that be?” Arthur can feel her mental shrug.

_“That’s varied from host to host. The shortest was two months, the longest was nearly two years. Your human blood may quicken or lengthen the process. Only time will tell.”_

Arthur swallows thickly and can’t imagine being like this for days, let alone months or years. “And will they grow?”

_“Oh yes, at least ten fold, perhaps more. You will birth me strong children._

Arthur feels faint as he tries to picture himself larger, how he’ll get around, how— “How will I birth these?”

 _“You’ll know when the time is right and seek me out. All will be revealed in time._ With a speed belying her size, the Karathen is suddenly gone, and Arthur is suddenly alone.

Looking down at himself, Arthur brushes a finger across one swollen nipple, hissing at their still startling sensitivity, his cock jerking as it begins to fill with blood. Trying to reach for it, Arthur finds that his stomach is so large that he has no hope of touching it. “Well, fuck.”


End file.
